Dancing with Destiny
by Luma66
Summary: A drow family leaves the ruins of Chad Nasad to make a new life in Menzoberranzen. Will they succeed?
1. Chapter 1

Dancing With Destiny

All recognizable characters belong to RAS. The world belongs to WotC. I do not intend any infringement by using the above-mentioned person's or company's items, I only use them here for entertainment purposes only.

Prelude

The city spread out below her like a bed of jewels lying on a field of black velvet. From the bustling Bazaar to the cliffs of Tier Breche, multi-colored faery fire lined stone turrets, buttresses and entrance ways, the more color the more prominent the residents of the structure.

This was her last hope, if her plans didn't come to fruition her entire family would be erased. She refused to live like a beggar from one settlement to the next, or worse as a slave to that despicable shadow dragon that had destroyed her city, her family, and her way of life.

The slender dark elf determinedly looked out at the city that she wished to claim as her own. No, never would she be able to claim such a jewel as Menzoberranzan as hers, she gave into the glory she saw before her, and knew if she were to succeed, the hive at her feet would claim her.

Motioning to the three males behind her, all that was left of her family and house, she began the descent to the city where her last plans had already been set into motion.

Zin'vey Na'Shar the only daughter of Virtrin Na'Shar, former twelfth house of the former glorious city of Ched Nasad, headed toward her destiny.


	2. Chapter 2

Dancing With Destiny

All recognizable characters belong to RAS. The world belongs to WotC. I do not intend any infringement by using the above-mentioned person's or company's items, I only use them here for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

Zin'vey walked the halls of her house like the matron she wished to someday be. If things kept progressing as they had in the last five years she would be that matron soon, very soon.

Her house did not host a legion of faithful priestesses, nor did they hold any high appointments within the city hierarchy, no arcane secrets were deposited within the halls she walked, but one thing she did possess, and most self righteous females failed to take advantage of, was three very powerful males.

Very early her mother had taught her only daughter, the true value of that so under used commodity of males. Virtrin Na'Shar showed her daughter the value of a well taught, a well-trained tool. A sword was useless if it didn't have an edge.

She remembered well all those teachings at her mother's throne. Without those teachings she would not have come as far as she had in such a limited time. One thing she always lived by was a surface adage her mother had told her one day when she had failed to discipline her twin brother for speaking out of turn.

"You can get twice the results with honey as with vinegar." She whispered softly echoing the words her own mother had said to her then.

"Let your servants have a little extra, they will be twice as loyal and three times as profitable than if you subjugated them at every turn. But by no means be lax in your expectations of them. Let them know exactly what you want and what you expect, if they know these things and know the line they are not to cross then they will avoid that line at all costs. If perhaps, they are not bright enough to avoid it make an example of them." Zin'vey could still hear the raspy sound of her mother's voice as it echoed in her throne room of the house in Ched Nasad when it still stood.

She knew the way she ran her house made her look weak in the eyes of the true matrons of the city. But she knew the benefits, one day she would sit on the ruling council, she would be second only to House Beanre itself.

It may take centuries to accomplish what she wanted but she had time, that was one thing she had plenty of.

As she turned the corner and entered the house's gymnasium she saw one of the males of her house inside training.

Rilmarn stood several inches over six feet, remarkably tall for a drow, he practiced in a pair of light cotton trousers and nothing else. Today he was working on his hand to hand skills.

His muscles rippled across his broad back and sculpted chest, ebony skin glistening with a sheen of sweat from his work out. His long white braid swayed as it almost touched the ground. Zin'vey leaned against the door to her patron's sanctum and watched him work through his session. She knew he was aware of her eyes on him and knew he also enjoyed the attention.

After several minutes Ril stopped his work out and turned to face his Matron, smiling. As always she was struck by his beautiful eyes, the color of freshly polished emeralds, it was the only mark that he had anything other than dark elvish blood in his veins.

"Are you ready for your arena bout tomorrow? I've heard the opponent you're to face is very impressive." She spoke watching him move across the floor, he was the most physically powerful male she had ever encountered.

She had searched for months in Ched Nasad to find a suitable mate when she became old enough. Rilmarn had been the champion of the arena at the time, no more than a slave to the arena master, she had spent nearly two tenday trying to purchase him until he had been bought right out from under her. Little did she know at the time he had been purchased by her aging mother and would later be presented as a gift to her, but only after he had sired her youngest brother. Virtrin gave nothing without receiving something first.

"Of course I'm ready. Have I ever lost?" he replied pulling on a light tunic.

"You're entirely too cocky, any other female would put you in your place for only a fraction of the things I endure. Make sure you don't loose, my plans require everyone in this house to perform to their utmost." She turned and left without a backwards glance.

The weapons master only chuckled as he left for his own quarters next door to the area he claimed as his own. He knew as well as she did that as long as he kept her pleased in the arena and in her bedchambers he would be free to do almost anything he wanted.

Going over plans in her head Zin'vey made her way to the part of the house that had still to be reconstructed, on her way to Narfein's laboratory.

Her youngest brother had claimed the old work space, it was the most remote part of the old house.

As she daintily side stepped a pile of rubble, she noticed a shadow that didn't belong.

Speaking to the air she asked, "What have you learned?"

As the shadow materialized beside her, her twin brother's voice said, "Some very interesting things, especially involving the arena."

She kept walking as if she had no companion. The antics of her twin were nothing to her, she had long ago discovered Fimeral's ability to ferret out information. He was her eyes and ears in places she could never go.

"It would seem our Weapons Master is the underdog in tomorrow's tourney. The word in the betting circle is he has eighteen to one odds." He looked sideways at his almost identical sister as he spoke.

Zin'vey laughed out loud. "Eighteen to one are you joking with me? That is wonderful. Ril must be a much better actor than I gave him credit for."

"His opponent is the current champion in Eryndlyn. He uses a whip and short spear simultaneously, and both poisoned of course."

"Poison is supposed to be forbidden unless otherwise specified. Anything we need to worry about?"

"No, he uses several varieties, and one even from the surface. If my information is correct Rilmarn has built a tolerance to all of them. The worse should only weaken him slightly, and even at that he will still be stronger than his opponent."

Maneuvering around more rubble she glanced at Fimeral, she knew how accurate his information was.

"Do you know what weapons Rilmarn has chosen to use?" Her brother asked rounding the corner side by side with her.

"No, but he was practicing his hand to hand earlier."

"That should be fine, one opportunity to get up close and his foul breath will take the match for him easily." Only the four people inside this house knew that her patron's sire was a green dragon, and that he had inherited some of the wyrm's characteristics, including increased strength, speed, agility and the less potent version of a green's breath weapon.

"When is Narfein to take his test for a masters position at Sorcere?"

"Tomorrow of course, along with my yearly meeting with Matron Mother Triel. It seems tomorrow will be a big day for us all."

"How long do you think they will keep us as vassals to House Baenre?" Fimeral asked.

"As long as Triel thinks she can get away with it. At present, with no priestesses, and little resources we will be houseless vassals for some time to come. Luckily for us the matron of the first house knows how to use her resources well and leaves us to make our own way."

"Then perhaps it would be in our best interests for Matron Mother Triel to retain the throne of the first house."

"For the time being I agree with you. Here take this, make sure you put all of it on Rilmarn for tomorrow's bout, anonymously of course." She said handing her brother a bulging rothe' hide pouch.

"Of course." Fimeral said as he bowed to his sister and melted into the shadows.

That one was always full of questions, but he always answered as many as he asked, and as long as that stayed true she cared little to sate his curiosity.

After traversing two more rubble strewed corridors Narfein's constructs began to make appearances.

Narfein was an adept wizard excelling at a very young age at his arcane studies. Yet his specialty was constructs and reconstruction. She knew her brother's shining moment had been when he had created a full grown functioning kobold from a single discarded hair he had found. There was nothing he could not make given time and the right materials. Thanks to him she saved so much gold on slaves and servants to keep up the house, although she had to purchase enough to keep up appearances.

As she drew closer to his private chambers and work space, more and more golems became evident, until she came to his guarded door. He had chosen an earth golem for a guard.

"Tell your master his Matron wishes to enter." She had seen evidence when entering a wizard's chamber it was always wise to announce ones self first, or otherwise very unsavory things might happen.

The grey lump moved with the sound of boulders grinding against each other and slowly went to inform its master of his visitor.

After several minutes the golem returned to its former place, but with the door opened, which meant Zin'vey was free to enter the rooms beyond.

On the other side of the door the area was free of debris and had begun the transformation from an abandoned structure to a livable abode. As she made her way to her destination, she passed several of her brother's workers busily repairing structures and cleaning.

Zin'vey's jaw dropped as she entered the opened door of the room Narfein occupied at the moment. Was this his work room or his private chambers?

The large chamber was very tastefully decorated with a rug from some far off destination. Sitting in the center of the rug was a beautifully carved table of hardened mushroom. A crystal and pewter chandelier hang over the polished table. Finely painted scenes from the world above adorned the walls, but none of that was what caused her uncharacteristic shock.

Lining the walls were golems made from every known substance she could think of, from precious stones, to rare metals, one even looked to be made of smoke. What caused her shock was the form these golems were molded to resemble. All were females of some race or another from diminutive figures to tall slender ones. Each and every one were as bare as the day they were made and all were remarkably life like in their make.

Her eyes finally looked to her youngest brother standing on the other side of the uncluttered table. He had inherited Rilmarn's height but not his girth. If it were possible, he was even more handsome than his sire, with that charming smile. He wore a white spider silk tunic tucked into a pair of dark-blue velvet trousers that in turn were tucked into a pair of well made black calf length boots, all covered in an outer wizard robe that matched perfectly the pants. The robe of course was left open to better show case the extravagant clothing beneath. His thick white hair hang loose about his shoulders.

Yes this boy before her was very much like his sire in so many ways yet different in so many others.

"I do hope you keep this area properly warded against outside eyes." She glanced around the room in disgust. "I do not even want to know what you do with these things, just keep them hidden."

Smiling broadly the wizard replied, "Of course I keep my rooms warded as I do the rest of your house. As to my toys they are for decoration only, call them a fetish perhaps. Why should all my constructs be shapeless forms of goo?"

"Whatever I really don't want to know your strange obsessions. Just make sure you're ready for your test tomorrow. I need one of you in the academy somewhere and I cannot waste Rilmarn in Melee Magthere, he's far more productive in the Arena."

"I'm ready. I know which questions to answer correctly, which to miss and by how much. Don't worry sister. We all know exactly what our roles are." He said this making his way to a desk in the corner carved to match the table.

"By the way my constructs are still unearthing things left over from the former inhabitants of this house. Most of it is inconsequential junk not even worthy of the bandits that sacked the place when the house fell. But every now and then something interesting appears."

He handed her a small leather bound book and a qu'ilinsar.

"They were found in a hidden niche in one of what I think was a bed chamber. If you notice there is still blood on the dagger."

"Who would hide such a thing? Could you find out who was sacrificed?" Turning the qu'ilinsar over in her hands. This had been used and hidden, but by whom.

"Of course I can. I won't guarantee I can find out the whole of it but I should be able to find out enough."

"Do it after your test tomorrow. Do not waste your time on something this trivial."

She tossed the sacrificial dagger to him, pocketed the book and left. Never did she wish to enter those rooms again.


	3. Chapter 3

All recognizable characters belong to RAS. The world belongs to WotC. I do not intend any infringement by using the above-mentioned person's or company's items, I only use them here for entertainment purposes only.

A/N I have to apologize if the story seems to jump from one topic or scene to the next without a break. There is actually breaks, but they won't show up when I post here. I can't edit and put them in either. They do show up on other sites. I have no idea why they don't here. I hope it doesn't distract too much.

Chapter 2

The arena was packed. Since the events after the sudden disappearance of Lolth and her just as sudden reappearance five years ago, the struggling arena trade in Menzoberranzen had shot through the roof.

Just as well for Zin'vey, her family had always kept a heavy hand in the arena, why should making gold be boring and unentertaining. Besides the servants and slaves always knew if they did not perform as expected they would more than likely find themselves on the arena floor facing something very nasty.

Four matches had already played out, some as expected, but the last had been a major upset. The commoners in the crowd were still on their feet and screaming over that one.

Good their blood would be up for the next one which Rilmarn was a participant. He never failed to put on a good show and she had instructed him to make sure this one was no different.

Fimeral would be here somewhere watching the proceedings, and Narfein would be readying himself for his test. Today would be a very pivotal day in her plans. If her meeting with Matron Mother Triel went as she hoped she could begin to set in motion some of her more complex plans.

The Arena Master gestured for silence then waited to be obeyed so her magically enhanced voice could carry throughout the stadium.

"For our fifth bout this evening we have entering from the south Rilmarn, standing approximately six feet, weighing at two hundred eighty-three stone, one time champion of Ched Nasad."

As her weapons master entered the arena Zin'vey chuckled, with that introduction she could tell he had not made a very good impression on the Arena Master, she didn't even add his sponsoring house name, they would see.

He strutted in as if he owned not only the arena but everyone in it. Cocky male she thought, especially when she saw he carried a short sword in his off hand and a small oval shield strapped to his right arm as his chosen weapons for this bout. What was he thinking against two weapons of longer reach? He had better not loose. She had told him to put on a good show not take wild chances.

The Arena Master's voice continued on, "Entering from the north we have Sminther Imvere, standing an impressive five foot four inches and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-four stone. He is the current and long time champion of beautiful Eryndlyn. He wields not only a spear but also a barbed whip. This bout will be to the death."

Oh that was so amusing listening to the announcer try to talk up the Imvere fighter. She should have told Ril to make an example of this little male. But no that would come later. She still needed funds to rebuild and start other ventures before she allowed her patron to dominate the arena. And it was far more profitable to bet for him while he held back then wound his pride by making him throw matches to bet against him.

"Let the match begin!" The announcer shouted and the combatants moved toward the center of the arena floor.

Even from this vantage point she could see the sneer on the other fighter and Rilmarn's answering white smile.

They circled each other in the sand taking measure of one another, waiting for the first blow.

Ril seemed to dwarf the smaller fighter as he jumped back and swung his whip left handed at Rilmarn's shield arm trying to disable the appendage and shield.

Instead of avoiding the blow the larger fighter stepped into it and caught the end of the whip against his body and trapped it there with his shield and arm. He turned fast pulling the whip wielder into him, when he was in reach he snacked out and sliced a bloody streak across his opponent's right leg before he could get the spear up to block or attack. Rilmarn then released the whip and backed out of reach of the spear, and waited for the next move.

The smaller drow knew he was being played with now, if his opponent had been serious he would have killed him just now. The Eryndrlyner circled warily planning his next attack. But before he could, in rushed Rilmarn lightening fast.

He blocked a blow from the spear with his sword, then he sliced the little drow across the chest with the sharpened edge of his shield. When the shield had completed the pass, he brought his left fist up into the face of his opponent, teeth and blood flew, but he would not stop there.

Never had the half dragon met anyone or anything that could match him in strength or speed and he used every ounce of it on this haughty little dark elf. He punched, sliced and bashed never giving the other a chance to use his longer reaching weapons.

When the smaller fighter finally failed to get back to his feet, Rilmarn saw his opponent's chest rise so he moved over and placed two large hands on either side of the prone fighter's head and snapped his neck to end the bout.

He turned around and dazzled the crowd with his smile, arms raised in triumph, then left by the same corridor he had entered through.

The crowd was on their feet shouting and screaming, the pile of flesh, that now was no more than lizard food, was said to be one of the finest gladiators. Apparently not Zin'vey laughed as she exited the stadium to make her way back to her house to await Matron Mother Triel's summons.

When Zin'vey arrived in her chambers she found a note from Narfein. She quickly read over it as she made her way to the large closet at the other end of the room.

"Very interesting." She spoke out loud. "So the qu'ilinsar Narfein found was used to sacrifice the former house's last weapons master before they lost Lolth's favor and were eradicated. Now I'm sure that would be an interesting and bloody story. I wonder if Fimeral would have more information?"

Glancing at the small book that had been found along with the sacrificial dagger, she decided she would pass her time reading it until Matron Triel sent for her. Perhaps some of the answers could be found inside.

Zin'vey entered the Baenre stronghold escorted by four house guards, all well armed and armored. They made their winding way to the throne room where most guests of the house were given an audience.

The diminutive Matron sat upon the throne she had inherited from her powerful mother.

Triel Baenre lounged on the too large throne looking for all the world like a child playing at being an adult.

Zin'vey knew better to underestimate this small, beautiful elf. She had held this city together against invading duergar and demon forces. She had rebuilt and made the city even stronger in the aftermath of the siege. No pretender to that impressive skull throne could have done that. Indeed Matron Triel of the first house of Menzoberranzan was nothing to take lightly. And she was one of Zin'vey's stepping stones to the establishment of her own house.

"Greetings Matron Mother Baenre." Zin'vey bowed before the throne that held possibly one of her only allies in this city.

"Greetings daughter. Walk with me we have much to discuss." Triel stood and strolled out of the room.

Zin'vey matched her longer strides to the smaller elf to stay a half step behind her. This was strange, never had they left the throne room when she came to report her house's business.

She held her tongue waiting for the powerful woman beside her to make the first move.

"I heard your weapons master won in the arena today. You must be very proud of his prowess, even though he is just a male."

"I am Mother. My youngest brother was placed in Sorcere today as an instructor also. All of my males are very talented at what they do. If they were not, I would have done away with them years ago."

"Indeed." Triel stopped and opened a set of double doors and made her way out onto a balcony over looking the huge cavern the city was built in.

The entire city could be seen from this point, from Narbondel, the red glowing clock of the city, the bazaar, and even the academy with it's three distinct buildings.

"This city is beautiful, isn't it? It has stood practically unchanged for over twenty five hundred years." The entrancing female said.

"It is impressive."

"The bazaar looks busy for this time of day. The merchants will be delighted to make a few extra coins."

"Yes, it does seem rather late for so much activity. It would seem more than one house got a late start today." Zin'vey wondered what the woman beside her was up to. She had never discussed mundane things of this nature here before. Matron Baenre was always blunt and to the point in her dealings with Zin'vey. The younger drow felt a touch of apprehension, she knew if Triel had plans of her own for House Na'Shar, she would not care one pence whether they corresponded with Zin'vey's own plans.

"How many priestesses have you acquired since last we spoke?" Triel stared out over the city not paying any mind at all to the woman she spoke to.

"None. I am still the only priestess." Unfortunately she knew where this conversation was going. "I find it rather difficult to gather priestesses to me when I have nothing but promises to offer them."

"Houses in this city must be strong or they cease to exist. Surely you understand this inhabiting a dwelling that once belonged to a house that proved to be, shall we say, not as powerful as they believed themselves to be. If you are to be strong, you need priestesses. I know our cousins in Ched Nasad did business differently than we do here, but as you see who still thrives and who is now nothing but a pile of rubble underneath a dragon, who was the strongest of the cities." The smaller dark elf turned slightly and held up a hand to still the younger from speaking.

"Do not begin to extol on the virtues of your males either. Nor the long history of your family, your family has been reduced to nameless beggars. If you want a future in this city, you will get more priestesses. If you want your own house then I suggest you go to see my sister Quenthal, Head Mistress of Arach-Tinilith and beg her if you have to, for priestesses to fill your miserable house."

It was all Zin'vey could do not to grind her teeth as the diminutive figure turned her back and walked away.

Beg, she would not, but she had been pushed into a corner. Now she had no choice but to go to the Head Mistress.

Triel Baenre strolled back to her throne room where she knew her sister Quenthal was waiting.

Quenthal, second daughter of ancient Yvonnel Baenre may indeed be the head of Arach-Tinilith the center for the worshipers of Lolth here in Menzoberranzen, but Triel was still Matron Mother of the first house, and Quenthal would bow to her and her wishes no matter how it galled her.

As soon as Triel entered the room Quenthal began to protest what she knew she was going to be asked to do.

"Yes, greetings to you also Sister." Triel said speaking over her burly sister, as she retook her seat on the impressive throne, making sure to use the footstool she had placed there to keep from climbing into the throne like a child.

"I see no reason why I should place adept priestesses in a vassal house with no name, no power, and most of all, no future. You know as well as I do this Zin'vey coddles her males and lets them run wild doing anything they please. I still cannot fathom why you even agreed to this scheme of taking them under the protection of House Baenre in the first place. They are an embarrassment and border on blasphemy." Quenthal almost foamed as she completed her speech. Her snake headed whip writhed in agitation, showing just how upset their mistress really was.

Leaning forward in her throne she stared directly into her sister's red eyes as she replied. "I am Matron of this house and I will decide what we do or do not do. I am 'requesting' that when Zin'vey comes to you asking for priestesses for her house that you comply. I will also be so generous as to give you a list of names to choose from for the honor. You will place three priestesses in that house and you will have the three ready when Zin'vey comes calling. Do you understand me?"

Quenthal seethed under the red-hot glare of her sister and matron. She knew this was not a request at all, but a veiled threat. How she longed to rip that small form to pieces and sit upon that throne herself. She belonged there, only she deserved the honor of being first Matron of Menzoberranzen. But she knew her time for ruling anything but priestesses had yet to come. Swallowing her pride, which tasted like downing molten bile, she bowed very slightly to her sister upon the coveted throne. "Of course Matron, I will have the three ready and waiting IF Zin'vey comes calling for aid."

The high priestess turned and stalked from the room. Oh she would have three priestesses ready, three of the most loyal and devout of Lolth's followers. They would teach those males to strut through the streets like they had the right. Zin'vey and her toys would learn their places when she was done.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Woot! I finally found a way to make my breaks inbetween scenes to show up, it only took me almost a week of experimenting. Oh well, I hope it helps make it easier to read now. Have fun.

Chapter 3

Rilmarn and Narfein made their way down the disused corridors toward the house's kitchens.

It had been close to a year since his son had been in the house. He wished he could find a place as secure as Sorcere to hide from those spider kissing wenches that kept trying to take over the house.

As they turned into the last hall before the kitchens they knew their quarry was inside from the delicious smells permeating the area.

Not for the first time, Ril thought this family he had been forced into could not possibly get any stranger. From his own son standing beside him decked in burgundy velvet and gold brocade, which would rather spend his time with stone and metal creatures then flesh and blood, to his brother-in-law that was inside the kitchens now most likely cooking enough food to feed three houses.

Ril shook his head slightly as the two entered the kitchens to be met with plates, platters, tureens, kettles, pots, and any number of other containers all over flowing with delicious food that would more than likely be dumped in the sewers behind the house.

Two plates plus utensils were thrust at them from the drow at the cooking fire, as they surveyed the delectable selection before them.

"I thought we would find you here. I take it since you are alone Silvie hasn't discovered your obsession with cooking." Narfein said while filling his plate.

"No and if she ever does I'm taking the offer from Bregen D'aerthe to join them. It will most likely be the only safe place left in the Underdark for me then." Fimeral growled dumping some unknown root vegetable into a sizzling skillet, then adding several aromatic seasonings.

Since their matron had gone to Arach-Tinilith for extra priestesses, their lives had very quickly went from pleasantly tolerable to a living hell. And the worse was all three vied for Fimeral since he was unattached and still young with nowhere to hide.

But Silvie was the worse, she dogged him every step. She followed him into the city, every tavern he went to, he found her across the room staring at him. He couldn't even go to the cities pleasure house without being met by his stalker at the doors.

"We have to find someway to get these rothe' bred wenches off our backs. I refuse to take one more beating from one of them as soon as Zin'vey leaves the room." Ril remarked shoving his mouth full of roasted meat.

"That's the thing. If they mysteriously end up missing, we will be the first accused, and that means death. Worse Zin will more than likely have to replace whoever we remove. As bad as those three are, I know there are far worse than them." Fimeral dumped the vegetables into a platter and placed them with the rest of the food on one of the tables.

"There has to be a way. Maybe if we talked to Zin'vey she would help. I know she can't like having them here trying to usurp her power from her like they are." Narfein suggested making room in his plate for more food. One advantage, he thought to himself, of Fimeral's discomfort was the endless food heaped throughout the kitchen.

Plopping down with his own plate Fimeral replied, "What do you think Zin would do if the three of us came to her with plans to kill not one, but three priestesses of Lolth? No matter if she does want them removed it's not our place to do it. If she wants us to get rid of them she'll tell us. Surely you're not that stupid to think she would allow us to just kill off priestesses and do nothing about it."

"Someone would have to take the fall for something like that, more than likely one or all three of us." The half dragon added around a mouth full of food.

"Something has to be done."

"What are you whining about? You get to stay at Sorcere away from all this. You don't even have to come home." Fimeral fumed.

So engrossed in plotting the three males didn't even notice their mistress walk into the room. "I knew I would find Fimeral here, but to find my other two missing males is quiet a surprise."

Zin'vey walked around the tables lifting lids and stirring the contents of dishes. "It's good to see you Narfein, it has been far too long since you were home with your family."

The three drow seated at the table showed none of the apprehension they all felt.

"I've been very busy at the academy, being a first year instructor I get all the worse classes and students."

"Indeed, I would expect no less from the Arch Wizard. I suppose I should let you three have your little gathering or homecoming or whatever it is you're doing. Oh, there is to be a ceremony tonight as Narbondel's light fades, in the temple, I expect all three of you there." Zin'vey picked up a platter of crusty creme filled confections and existed the room.

"Oh that's not going to be good." Narfein stated still staring at the doorway his sister had just left by.

"How much do you think she heard?" Ril asked.

"Too much for my comfort. Bregen D'aerthe is looking better and better."

"If things keep up the way they are I might just join you there, unless of course Zin'vey decides we've all out lived our usefulness." Remarked the gladiator.

That was a thought that had all three males scared more than they wanted to admit.

ooooo

Zin'vey dropped the half empty platter on a side table as she entered her private chambers. She paced around the room, nibbling absently on a pastry.

She couldn't remember when she had been this furious. How dare those upstart, know nothings to have the gall to try and tell her how to run her own home.

Yet she had to admit it was time for a sacrifice to the Spider Queen, but how dare 'them' to tell her that. They had over stepped their bounds for the last time. She would make a sacrifice tonight to Lolth, then she would put her adopted daughters in their places.

She'd had nothing but trouble from them since they had arrived. From Silvie's relentless obsession with Fimeral to Nastree's incessant need to agree with everyone, if that one had half a thought for herself Zin'vey would be surprised. Worst of all was Hareshara, she acted as if this were her house, ordering everyone around. She even had the temerity to contradict Zin'vey.

Zin'vey was completely fed up with the whole arrangement. It was time for her to take back what was rightfully hers.

ooooo

Zin'vey stood in the center of the house's temple, surrounded by her three "daughters". She wore a stunning red dress, with spider motives worked throughout. Her hair was pulled up into a pile on her head, worked through with gold chain. Her only jewelry was a necklace with an emerald encrusted likeness of a spider.

She surveyed her surroundings, the impressive temple was less than half full and it contained all the commoners serving her house. To have accomplished as much as she had with so few resources was a testament to her determination and guile.

The three males of her house made their way down the isle toward the area reserved for the nobles. Each were clothed in their best attire, which was impressive indeed concerning Narfein. Zin'vey watched them closely, no one would ever notice how on edge they were. She noticed every twitch of a finger, every flick of an eye, every nervous shift they made. It almost felt good to have those under her so apprehensive. These little gatherings may have to happen more often, but of course not too often where would the fun be in that.

When the three late comers had taken their places she surprised them even further by motioning them forward to the base of the giant likeness of the Spider Queen herself, directly facing the sacrificial alter, where so many others had been sent as an offering to her goddess.

She expected them to balk, protest or at least make some sign of rebellion against being that close to the alter. But to her dismay and ultimate pride, none of her males did any of those things. They filed in line, Rilmarn first Fimeral in the rear, to the exact spot she had indicated and kneeled.

Without another word Zin'vey turned to the women beside her and motioned for the ritual to begin. They chanted together in a lilting cadence, each priestess adding her own divine power to the spell. As the chanting ended and the power of the Spider Queen swelled and rolled inside Zin'vey, she turned to the males on their knees at her feet. Which one would it be? What skills could she do without? Of course she had made her choice hours ago.

When she thought she could stand the power of Lolth swirling through her no longer, she motioned for the male drow to rise, as they did, Hareshara moved forward thirsting for the blood of the sacrifice. Very well she shall have the sacrifice she so thirsts for, Zin'vey thought, as she quickly turned and plunged the qu'ilinsar into Hareshara's breast. Zin'vey felt the power of Lolth flow from her to the dying woman to be replaced with a sense of acceptance. Her sacrifice had been found adequate.

There were gasps through out the temple as the tall female clutched the holy dagger impaling her heart. The two females flanking the dying drow just stood in wonder as their companion slowly went to her knees.

Zin'vey stood straight and tall addressing everyone in attendance including her remaining daughters, "Lolth has accepted this most appropriate of sacrifices. We shall be blessed for the blood we shed. We have received Her most holy blessings in return for the deed we did here tonight. Let us of one voice thank the most high Spider Queen."

"Lolth be praised." Rang out from at least one hundred voices.

"Yes Lolth be praised. Return to your stations and duties with praises to Her on your lips." Zin'vey said dismissing the congregation.

"I wish to see my family in my audience chamber within the hour. We have many things to discuss." Sneering at the corpse laying across her path, she stepped over it and left.

ooooo

Triel Baenre sat across the table from Anival Dyrr in a hidden room inside House Baenre. Anival had done much to redeem herself after the treachery her family had committed during Lolth's time away. But regardless Triel planned to keep House Agrach Dyrr vassals for a very, very long time. They would pay for every treasonous deed and thought anyone in those walls had ever committed.

"Do you understand exactly what I'm expecting from you Anival?" Triel asked.

"Yes Matron Baenre, I understand completely. I also understand the need for secrecy in this matter."

"Good I'm glad that you do. You also realize the errors your predecessors partook in, I see this up and coming house as potentially another house full of unconformist and possibly even enemies of the Spider Queen herself. You see how important it is we make an example of them." Triel knew the drow in front of her would do anything she commanded, she owed her total existence to Triel.

"Of course I do. I agree totally. It only takes one festering before you learn to lance the boil before it grows into an epidemic. Do not worry Matron, I will personally make sure this progresses exactly as you plan."

"Very well. You have yet to disappointment me Anival, let this not be the first time it happens." Triel replied standing, signaling their meeting was at an end.

Both priestesses went back to their respective business as if the secret meeting had never taken place.

ooooo

The solitary wizard walked down the dark corridor toward the meeting his sister had called. He still couldn't fathom what Zin'vey could be planning, always before her plans seemed laid out like a map for him to view at his leisure. Now things were foggy, paths he thought she would travel were left barren and directions he had never foreseen, she had taken with seemingly no reservations.

Things were changing in this house and he was uncertain whether it would be for the better or for the worse. Perhaps he should look for a permanent position inside Sorcere.

Rounding a corner Narfein met his father and brother on their own way to Zin'vey's audience chamber. Looking at the other two drow he could see they were well aware that they also stood on the edge of a sheer cliff and all of their fates rested on the shoulders of one person. One person that had seemingly taken leave of her senses or worse, had decided it was time to bring them all to heel.

As the group came to the entrance of their Matron's chamber they were met by Silvie and Nastree also arriving for the meeting. The three males stood to the side to allow the females to enter. Anything else would show disrespect and bring much more than a beating.

Zin'vey sat in the center of the room, on a large plush chair. Narfein knew she had dreams of one day exchanging that opulent chair for a real throne. Until now he had backed his only sister wholeheartedly, with her recent actions he was beginning to doubt if it would be wise to follow her so blindly. Always before she had looked out for the welfare of the entire house, males included, now she seemed to be losing some of her concern for the family.

"Good all of you are on time. Now to begin." Zin'vey said crossing her legs and dangling a slippered foot.

"We are now less one priestess, which I will not be replacing. As it is with three females and three males I feel we can handle most things as they arise.

"Speaking of which, two of our caravans have been plundered with all the guards killed and left for predators. Any of you have any ideas of who or what would have wiped out not one, but two of our merchant trains?"

Narfein watched his Matron, usually he would say she was upset, but now he really had no idea how to interrupt her actions.

Not receiving an answer Zin'vey continued, "Silvie find out what happened to our merchandise. We cannot keep losing caravans, it might mean we will have to clear some tunnels between here and our suppliers. See to it, do whatever must be done. Do I make myself clear Silvie?"

"Yes of course Matron I will do so at the earliest convenience." The voluptuous Silvie seemed concerned as well. The wizard assumed Zin'vey's uncharacteristic attitude of late had even the priestesses on edge. Especially after the display with Hareshara earlier in the temple.

"You will do so tonight."

Turning her gaze to Nastree, Zin'vey asked, "How old are you Nastree?"

Taken aback by the query the priestess answered, "I am ninety seven just this last season."

"Really, you should be looking for a mate at your age. Do you have any interest in anyone?" Not even giving the younger dark elf a chance to reply Zin'vey continued to speak. "No well perhaps I could help. It is very stressful choosing a competent partner. I think you and my brother Fimeral would suit each other wonderfully. Don't you agree? Good I'm glad you do, and I know you'll care for him as you would a favorite pet."

Narfein risked glancing to his right to gauge Fimeral's reaction to this unexpected turn of events. His brother's mouth was agape and he stared directly at their sister with a look abject horror. The wizard interpreted the look as the equivalent of a screaming temper tantrum from anyone else but his quiet unobtrusive sibling.

This was it, Zin'vey had lost all her faculties, if she would give her own twin to one of these parasites then she was totally capable of anything. Of course giving Fimeral to Nastree was a slap in the face to Silvie, perhaps that was what she intended.

"Rilmarn you will be taking up residence in the arena where you may train more extensively. I have not been pleased with your last few performances. I suggest you reevaluate your fighting prowess. I will not tolerate anything but the best from anyone in this house."

Narfein could see the drops of blood falling to the floor as nails cut into the palms of closed fists. Narfein didn't need to look at the fighter beside him to know he was gritting his teeth, he could hear it from where he stood.

"Of course Matron." Ril gritted out. Narfein knew if his father continued it would be the end of him and possible his sister too, but somehow the half dragon held his tongue and didn't say anything further.

"Narfein, I have discussed your position with Master Prath, and we both feel you need more responsibilities. Along with your first year students you will also be given a student from Melee Magthere, plus there are two adept third year students that need extra tutoring. You will also take on the training of the house wizards in between your duties at Sorcere. But of course I'm sure a wizard of your abilities will not find it difficult to attend these matters." Zin'vey's smile was full of venom as she stared at him waiting for him to accept the extra duties she had planned for him.

"I expect the extra responsibilities along side my present duties will be nigh impossible, but if it is what my Matron wants, then I will do my utmost to accomplish them." Narfein said bowing. How was he going to do what he had just promised? As it was he barely had time to study and rest, but in the end he knew he had no choice in the matter.

"Also House Agrach Dyrr has been undercutting our merchants in the Bazaar. Fimeral I want them taken care of. Kill them, intimidate them, whatever it takes. All of them.

"Now things will change in this house. In the past some of you have thought you had the right to do as you pleased, or to contradict me. This behavior will cease. I am the Matron here, and the lot of you will learn this lesson if need be at the end of a whip." Zin'vey sat looking at her family before her, running an idle hand along the scroll work of the chair arm.

"Now I suggest at Narbondel's first light each of you begin your duties. You're excused. I will trust all of you to not disturb me with trivial matters, I will be busy tonight."

ooooo

Zin'vey walked the circumference of her bedchamber, eyes downcast on the floor, slender ebony finger tapping her rounded chin muttering to herself. Anyone that should happen to spy the room would certainly get the impression that the female had lost some of her faculties. That was exactly what she wanted.

Of late her rest had been interrupted with unsettling visions. Scenes of escaping the fall of her home city repeatedly played across her closed lids, only with added details that she knew had never happened. The only explanation she could muster was someone was planting these visions while she was susceptible in Reverie, for she had never been prone to night terrors.

Zin'vey had spent many waking hours replaying and picking apart these "visions" she had been having. The only conclusion she had come to was someone was planning on attacking her House, which meant it could only be another vassal house to House Beanre, no one else would dare to attack something belonging to the first house.

She assumed that they were trying to weaken her first, even perhaps turn her family against her. Zin'vey had always counted very heavily on her males to be there, and act on their own in times of trouble, it had saved all of them repeatedly in Ched Nasad.

She could only hope she had not gone too far this evening. Fimeral should fair fine with Nastree, from every inclination the drow had not one cruel bone in her tiny little body, perhaps they would make a good pairing. Silvie was busy with the missing caravans and would be away for a time, that was good, Zin'vey knew for a fact she was a distant cousin of the Baenre. Hareshara was dead, which was more than perfect, she had been a spy for Quenthal and completely loyal to the Head Mistress. With Narfein so busy with his duties he would have no time to get in trouble with his constructs. That boy was going to get killed or worse if he were ever discovered.

Rilmarn was her real concern. She had insulted him, then proceeded to exile him to the arena. At least that was one place she knew him to be safe. Her patron was worth his weight in gems, and nigh impossible to replace.

Perhaps she could ferret out the culprits and bring her house back in order soon. Things were getting messy and that was one thing Zin'vey could not stand was a mess. Messes led to mistakes, and mistakes led to Zin'vey not getting what she wanted, that could not happen.

Zin'vey paced and muttered for several hours, until she settled down on her velvet Reverie couch to read a few entries from that mysterious journal. Surely if the naive child that had penned this book could survive, then so could Zin'vey with her faith planted firmly in herself first, family second and Lolth third. Never had Zin'vey been able to rely on anything for long but herself, Lolth included. It was the major reason she was barely a priestess and would never be a high priestess.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Fimeral stalked the alleys and side streets of the Bazaar, shadowing one of the Agrach Dyrr merchants. He had been following this particular male for the better part of an hour, and he was the last of the offending Dyrr merchants. It had taken him three days to follow and deal with all eight of them.

A shiver ran up the drow's spine as he thought of the eight offending merchants. Eight was a holy number for Lolth and her clergy. There was something else to this other than trying to under price a rival. Fimeral wondered if his sister was aware of it, or if she would even care.

Fimeral silently drew closer to his target, small slender dagger gripped in each hand. Slipping from shadow to shadow piwafwi pulled close to keep hidden from prying eyes, he was upon the unsuspecting dark elf with a few quick steps. As he thrust forward with a poisoned blade the figure turned toward him. Looking into the calm face of his victim, Fimeral realized his target wasn't in the least surprised, he had known all along he was followed. The blade slipped between ribs to pierce the heart, too late to pull back now.

Searing cold raced up Fimeral's arm, moving to his shoulder and beyond. Indeed he had been done in by some mage's death spell of all things. Slowly falling to the cobbles beside his dead victim, a thought flitted through Fimeral Na'Shar's increasingly numb mind, he would not be able to keep his evening meeting with Nastree. As the blood congealed in his veins from the cold running through his system he finally admitted, he had truly cared for the unusually timid female.

ooooo

Zin'vey walked down the corridor to her office. She had so much paperwork to take care of. Those Dyrr merchants had caused so much trouble with their simpering and backstabbing, now she had to correct it all by increasing prices elsewhere. Hopefully Fimeral would take care of them quickly and things could return to semi-normal.

Slowing her pace she glanced around, something was out of place. Zin'vey completely stopped and turned full circle, gazing into shadows and looking inside doorways. She could not put her finger on it but she knew something was wrong. Zin'vey turned back in the direction she had been traveling, and continued her course.

Turning a corner Zin'vey again stopped. From the other end of the hall there was another drow approaching. She could tell immediatly it was neither Nastree or Silvie, from the height and length of hair. No other female should be in this part of the house, especially walking her hallways unclothed.

Zin'vey studied the approaching female, she was so very beautiful and taller than even Rilmarn. The striking figure came to stand directly in front of Zin'vey staring down at her.

"Greetings Daughter." The musical voice didn't issue from the luscious mouth of the vison before her but from the air, and inside Zin'vey's own head. Zin'vey knew this was no ordinary drow female, she was something far more.

"Who are you and why are you walking through my house as if you have permission?" Zin'vey asked the apparition sternly.

A smile accompanied the answer, "I do not need permission to walk these halls daughter. I wished to speak to you. You are unhappy in your life, you may not even realize it but your soul cries out for something. Something my Mother cannot give you."

"My soul, it calls out for nothing. In time I will have everything I need. And your mother, who might that be?" Zin'vey would not allow this figure to see her so taken aback by what was being said, for indeed she did feel a longing, but for what she did not know.

"Peace of course. Love, contentment, a sense of actual worth, a place to belong. A place with others like yourself. Sisters that understand and will not ask for anything that you cannot give." The sweet sounding voice echoed in Zin'vey's head.

"There is no such place. And even if there were, it would not be for drow like myself. Who would even want such a place as that? I refuse to listen to more of this drivel. Now begone from my home you are not welcome here."

As her own words came back to her, Zin'vey started and sat up from her couch. It had been a dream. A silly dream was all. Slowly her thoughts took a more defined order.

It had been five days since the sacrifice of Hareshara, and four days since Fimeral and went out to fulfill his duties. Surely he would have accomplished his mission by now. She would go to his quarters to ascertain his progress.

Dressing quickly and ripping a comb through her hair Zin'vey left her quarters and made her way toward her twin's apartments. When she opened the outer door and stepped inside, she spied someone sitting on Fimeral's Reverie couch through the partially opened bedchamber door.

Quickly covering the distance across the sitting area, she pushed the door fully open. Zin'vey was shocked to find not Fimeral, but Nastree inside the chamber.

"Where is Fimeral?" Zin'vey asked roughly. She was in no mood for games after the night she had endured.

"I do not know Matron Zin'vey." The slender female answered, eyes downcast.

"What do you mean you don't know, didn't I place my brother in your care? Surely even you can take care of a simple male." Zin'vey knew the falseness of her words, if her brother didn't want to be found he could disappear indefinitely.

"Matron I know I was to care for Fimeral, my humblest apologies if something has befallen your brother. But I do not know his whereabouts. Four days ago we were to meet in the kitchens for dinner after the last of Narbondel's light faded. He never arrived, and I have not heard anything from him since." Nastree's fingers kneaded a stip of her dress, she was truly worried. She would surely be punished if something had happened to her matron's twin, and she truly wanted Fimeral to return, he had been one of the few drow that did not look down her timidity.

"He didn't keep his appointment?" That was not like Fimeral at all, he never failed in something he had given his word to. "In the kitchens you say?"

"Yes Matron." Nastree paused before going on, as if to work up her courage. "He was to make dinner for me." She had no idea how much Zin'vey knew about her brother, but since his absence it might not matter now.

Fimeral was going to cook for Nastree, now that was a revelation. Maybe she had been right to put the two together if they had taken so well to each other. "If my errant brother returns, send him to me immediatly."

"Of course Matron." Nastree remained behind to keep her vigil.

ooooo

Zin'vey arrived at Sorcere within thirty minutes of speaking to Nastree. She had to speak to Narfein, he should be able to locate their missing brother. Standing in an empty reception room, Zin'vey began her habit of pacing.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed before the door opened and a haggard looking Narfein entered. How the youth before her had changed in such a short time. Had it only been five days since she had seen him? From the state of the wizard it might have been five years.

Taking in the rumpled robes, that looked to need laundering, the unkept hair, Zin'vey wondered how was he to help her in his present condition.

"The errand boy said you wanted to speak to me?" Narfein asked listlessly.

What had she done, her youngest brother had always been full of boundless energy, and in five short days he seemed all used up.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I've been fulfilling my duties. On top of the ones I was informed of at our last meeting, I was assigned research duty and a second class of second year students that naturally coincides with my first year class. Did you require something?"

"Yes I do. It seems our brother is missing. I want you to try and locate him. At your earliest convenience of course." She wondered if he would even be able to memorize the spell of location let alone cast it properly.

The laugh Narfein let escape his lips, before he answered her, had an edge she didn't like, "Oh, of course sister, at my earliest convenience. That might be sometime next millennium. Maybe you could come back then."

"Do it soon then, I think he may have run into trouble." Walking out the door Zin'vey turned back to her sibling, "When you come home forget training the house wizards."

ooooo

The gladiator stalked down the corridor to the arena floor, combatants of various races moving out of his way. Rilmarn had not been in the best of moods and made sure to take it out on anyone that got in his way.

Today was to be a training day. He had fought eight fights in six days, the Arena Master was determined to find an opponent that could best the half dragon. She had no idea how hard that would be. She had even been reduced to putting him against several fighters at once, only to watch him take out his frustration on the targets he was presented with, and come out victorious.

Shoving open the gates and stomping onto the sandy floor beyond, the imposing figure glared at everyone present, including Zorna the arena master.

"I'm so glad you could attend." The scared female warrior sneered as Rilmarn came to a stop well away from the other fighters.

The half dragon placed his hands on his hips in a sign of agitation and continued to glare.

"We have some new recruits today. I will be pairing each of you with one of the new fighters. The ones that survive will be tested further if they aren't too wounded." Lifting her hand Zorna signaled the new gladiators onto the arena floor.

There was one troll, an orc, two kobolds, and a female half drow in the line walking toward the veterans. This wouldn't even be sport, Ril thought, gauging their prowess by the way each held themself.

He started forward toward the orc when Zorna called him back, "Not yet, you get to go against the one that survives. If one survives."

As much as Zorna disliked the large male, she had to admit she had never seen anyone handle themselves like that before. Zorna even doubted she could have handled him in her prime. Perhaps the cost for that surface dragon wouldn't be a bad idea, something had to be able to best him.

In less than an hour only one of the new gladiators still stood. Only the half drow and troll had been any challenge. The half drow was just breathing her last, she had given as good as she had gotten and taken two veterans with her. The troll was young and lacked skill, only his natural regeneration made him a hard kill, one hand and several fingers growing back attested to that fact.

"Your turn Rilmarn, see what the troll has." Zorna said waiting to watch the troll die.

The troll sneered at him as he started moving across the bloodied sand. It stretched newly regrown appendages, trying to ready itself for what was coming. Rilmarn pulled on a gauntlet of leather over his right hand as he moved, the outside of the gauntlet was covered in adamantine studs, each razor sharp.

Coming to stand directly in front of the troll, Ril took a deep breath activating his poison vapor, exhaling toward the beast, the troll's head was covered in a fog of green poisonous gas. Gagging and backing up the troll never saw what was coming. Once, twice, three times Ril punched with all his strength into the sharp nose of the gagging troll. Stunned from the gas and blows it fell to one knee barely conscious. The half dragon then began to punch the troll over and over again where the breast bone was located. He layered punch after punch on the falling troll until he felt the bone finally stop resisting. Digging bloodied fingers into the mush that earlier was the troll's chest, he located the barely beating heart and removed it. Covered in gore Rilmarn walked back to Zorna and handed her the slowly cooling heart. Ril never even slowed, but made his way back to his quarters, where he could brood alone.

Rilmarn couldn't figure out where he had erred. He had performed every deed just the way Zin'vey had instructed. How could she have humiliated him like this? She had to have found another male she wanted for patron, that was the only thing he could think of. If so he would have stepped aside willingly, as long as she had left him his weapons master position. Punching another hole into the stone wall by the entrance to his quarters, he thought, perhaps not that willingly, Zinny was awfully good in her chambers, and the position of patron had too many perks to let it go without at least a struggle.

Turning into his small living quarters, Rilmarn was shocked to find it inhabited. After a quick second he remembered to lower his eyes to the floor.

Sitting in the one rickety chair in the room the small female studied the gladiator. He truly was unusual, and those beautiful green eyes she had seen before he had quickly caught himself and lowered them. She could barely contain her lust, looking at him standing there with blood and bits gore decorating his stunning long white braid and ebony skin. It was very unusual for her to have such strong feelings.

"You must be the infamous Rilmarn. Do you know who I am male?"

"No Mistress, I must admit I have never had the pleasure of your acquaintance." He replied crossing his arms in sign of compliance. If Zinny could take another lover so could he, the thought ran through his mind as raised his eyes slightly to get a better look at this tiny female, and flashing her his charming white smile.

"I am Matron Mother Triel Beanre, of the First House." A slight smile played across Triel's lips as she introduced herself.

Light take me, he thought as he went to one knee in front the most powerful female in the city. What had he done to get the attention of such a matron as this? He dutifully kept his eyes lowered, there would be no wooing of this female he feared. Ril wondered what had Zin'vey done to the diminutive matron.

"I see you can show deference. I had heard you weren't aware of your place, maybe it was just a cruel rumor." Uncrossing her legs, Triel leaned over to get a better look at the kneeling drow's face. "I also heard you had lost the favor of your mistress. Is that a cruel rumor also?"

"I wouldn't know Mistress, Matron Zin'vey doesn't deign to inform one such as myself in her personal business." How he hoped that placated the drow.

"Your current or former mistress is not yet a matron male, you would be wise to remember that. But I had hoped to hear the rumor was true. Perhaps I am wasting both of our time. I am sure someone of your prowess has scant free time as it is." Triel said stretching a slender leg out from the slit in the side of her dress.

Ril couldn't help but to allow his eyes to follow the length of that shapely bare leg right up into the red eyes of its owner. "I must admit my time is at a premium Mistress, but you are far from wasting it." He had to be very careful with what he said and how he said it to this matron.

Pulling her bare leg back and standing Triel replied, "Indeed, if you were to discover that this rumor I have heard is true, I might be able to find a place for you elsewhere." With that she left the room.

Turning to watch the matron leave the room he thought to himself, sharing his bed with a dozen vipers would be safer than sharing one with that particular female.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Ten days. Zin'vey walked the halls of her house, not seeing anyone or caring if she did. Ten days was not such a long time. Ten days had become a life time. It had taken only ten days for her world to began to tilt out of control. Zin'vey's twin had been missing for ten days. Her patron and weapons master had been exiled to the arena for ten days. Her youngest brother had been worked relentlessly, almost to the breaking point for ten days, and she had not had more than a minutes rest in only ten days. How could things have gotten so out of control?

Silvie still hadn't returned from her expedition into the wilds looking for the culprit that had destroyed two of her merchant caravans. Not a large loss. Zin'vey realized Silvie was probably dead also, along with her twin brother. Narfein had tried repeatedly to locate him and found nothing, not even a corpse. Zin'vey despaired that perhaps in her youngest siblings current condition he had not performed the spell correctly, so she had purchased the services of a wizard in the city. The results had been the same.

Since then the sight of Nastree disgusted her, every chance time she came across the small female her red eyes were swollen from tears. How sickening, Fimeral had been her own twin brother, together since birth, and that upstart harlot was running around the house making a spectacle of herself.

Zin'vey stopped her wondering and turned back the way she had come. Things were falling apart, and she could get no rest. Every time she tried, she had that same strange dream of the tall, unclothed female, that kept making promises of redemption, love, and understanding. What foolishness, love and understanding, and what did she need redemption for? The dream had to be a side effect of her own over tired mind.

"Mistress, I have an important missive for you from Matron Triel." A servant said quietly breaking into Zin'vey's musings.

"From Matron Triel? Give it to me." Zin'vey snatched the scroll from the slave, not paying any attention as they quickly left, giving her odd looks.

Zin'vey broke the seal on the scroll and began to read the flowing script as she unrolled it.

_ Mistress Zin'vey, _

_ I must require your attendance on a very important matter. It would seem your youngest brother Narfein Na'Shar has been found as a traitor to not only your house, our fair city, but also to Lolth as well. _

_ There will be a meeting of the council, in which you are required to attend. It will be held at the beginning of tomorrow's cycle. _

_Matron Mother Triel Baenre of the First House of Menzoberranzan_

Narfein a traitor? Someone had discovered his constructs. Zin'vey knew his obsession with them would come of no good. Hopefully she might be able to smooth things over, and all he would suffer would be a session in House Baenre's dungeon.

Re-rolling the scroll, she started to her chambers to begin preparations for the meeting tomorrow.

ooooo

Zin'vey arrived at the council chambers early, very conscious that any small slight would not help her or Narfein. One of the Baenre guards led her into the chambers, Zin'vey had to keep the shock from showing as she regarded the eight ruling matron mothers, Head Mistress Quenthal, and Arch Wizard Gromph, already with the meeting underway. Zin'vey was not offered a seat, nor was she expecting one in the presence of such powerful drow as these.

Triel looked to one of the guards behind her, "Bring in the traitor."

The guard Triel had spoken to opened a hidden door. Two guards came through the door opposite Zin'vey, bearing a bedraggled Narfein between them, the wizard cuffs he wore securely binding each one of his fingers to another digit on the opposite hand, effectively keeping him from casting spells. His hair was mussed, clothes rumpled, he bore several bloody marks on his face, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. Zin'vey stared into his red eyes, looking for some sign that the accusations were wrong, Narfein stared back just as determinedly, gaze never wavering.

"It seems Mistress Zin'vey that your brother was found praying to another deity other than Lolth. When his private rooms in Sorcere were searched, paraphernalia was found to support the accusations. The council and I, including Head Mistress Quenthal being head of the temple, and Arch Wizard Gromph being your brother's superior, have already reached a decision."

A decision already, Zin'vey couldn't believe what she was hearing. They had conducted the meeting and came to a verdict without even waiting for her, she had purposefully been given the wrong arrival time, or they had changed it at the last minute. It had all been a plan. Was it or was it her own paranoia exclaiming a plan? Regardless, Zin'vey knew there was nothing she could do now to help Narfein. She would be lucky if she came out of this unscathed.

"Narfein Na'Shar will have his name and all, if any, accomplishments erased. He will then be transformed into a drider to serve out his remaining years in the service of Lolth, that he dared to forsake." Triel spoke these words as if she were listing what she was having for her evening meal.

When Narfein heard the verdict he started to struggle against the guards, more rushed in to restrain him. He shouted for Zin'vey to help him, that he hadn't done the things they had accused him of. Narfein used elbows, legs, and even his head to try and wiggle away from the guards holding him. Even though he was tall he wasn't strong enough to throw his retainers off, they dragged him away, to be changed forever.

Zin'vey watched it all with a sense a detachment. She could not believe her pretty brother would be a disgusting, distorted drider. She watched her brother be dragged out of the room, to be transformed into something hideous. She had made a horrible mistake coming to this city. She should have went to another city perhaps Sshamath, never to this Goddess forsaken place.

Zin'vey turned and left the chambers. She didn't speak not one word to anyone that was in the council chambers. What could she say? Her brother was a heretic, the other was a corpse. Nothing could change the facts, nothing she could do.

Zin'vey felt helpless, it was a totally alien feeling, and she didn't like it at all. These matrons had done this to her, every one of them had been against her from the start. Without her allies, regardless if they were just males, she would not be able to combat these females that sat in their castles, surrounded by power, wielding it against her like a poisoned blade. The only one she might still be able to call on was Rilmarn. Zin'vey decided she would go to the arena that evening and see if she could console his ego and concoct a plan to reclaim some of what she had lost.

ooooo

"What do you mean Rilmarn isn't here?" Zin'vey asked the Arena Master.

"I mean exactly what I said, he isn't here. What else do you want?"

"I want my patron that was here to help train your gladiators." The words came out in an angry hiss. "If he isn't here then you know exactly where he is, you are the Arena Master aren't you? Or am I speaking to the wrong person?"

Zorna glared at Zin'vey, she couldn't make this easy could she. "Follow me and keep quiet."

Zorna started off down a long dusty corridor, they took several twists and turns continually going down, until the pair came to a narrow broken flight of stairs.

"Stay close until we reach our destination. Do not under any circumstances get near the walls or any doors we pass. There are things below that no mortal should see." With that the Arena Master led the smaller female down the disused stairs.

Zin'vey counted eighty-eight stairs until their path leveled out. The floor was broken and crumbled in places, not in any better condition than the stairs had been. There was no light at all, not even from phosphate moss. Several doors lined the long hallway on either side. She could hear growls, grunts, and other quiet noises that she could not quiet place. The air was heavy and stagnant, it laid like a layer of filth in her noise and coated the inside of her mouth with a foul taste. As Zin'vey followed closely behind the Arena Master, she kept her gaze firmly on the leading female's back, she had no desire to see what foul beings inhabited the cells she was passing.

Coming to a large wooden door that had seen many centuries of use, Zorna pulled out a large skeleton key and placed it in the lock. Speaking a trigger word while turning the key, the scarred female pushed the huge door open and entered.

Zin'vey entered the room taking in the difference in appearance to the corridor she had just traversed. It wasn't dirty, but the smell still permeated the area, the floor was stained a rusty red color, several stone slabs were located in the center with iron racks hanging over them. The racks seemed to contain instruments of torture or surgery.

"What is this place?" Asked Zin'vey shakily , she was afraid of what might be found under the covering of the only occupied table in the room.

Instead of answering, Zorna moved to the occupied table and pulled back the covering. Underneath was a body, a large one. The corpse was burned beyond recognition.

Zin'vey slowly moved to the table laden with the corpse. "You're telling me this is Rilmarn."

"That's exactly what I'm telling you." Zorna leaned across the corpse toward Zin'vey and whispered, "But it's not. This chunk of meat isn't even elvish. Your male was taken out of here last night while Narbondel was still dark. I had no choice but to allow it. I'm just the Arena Master, I have no influence or power in this city. Do you understand?"

"So someone came and took Rilmarn away. Why would you tell me this? You hate him, you made no secret about, so why would you try to help now?" Zin'vey scrutinized the woman across from her.

"I do hate him, I do, I always have. But he is a gladiator, and no matter how much I absolutely loath him, he is possibly the best gladiator I have ever seen. But he is a gladiator, he deserves to die out there in the sand not chained to some matron's dungeon wall. I'm over five hundred years old, I was born in an arena, and I say your patron is the best I've ever known, so what does that tell you about the drow that took him away."

Zin'vey had to admit the truth of what Zorna was saying. What kind of powers were aligned against her?

ooooo

The prisoner was in the center of the wet, dank cell. He knelt on his knees, clothed in nothing but his small clothes, arms pulled out to each side, head pulled down toward the floor. Heavy enchanted chains encircled his neck, waist, wrists, elbows, upper arm, knees and ankles, the chains were anchored to the walls, securely holding him in that uncomfortable position.

Rilmarn had lost count of the hours he had spent in this position, he thought it couldn't have been more than a day. The cold was starting to settle into his joints beginning to make them swell and ache.

He should have broken the little female's neck the first time she came to visit him. The second time she had brought company, seven high priestess and twelve soldiers. They had come in the night while he was asleep, stormed into his room, and while he was fighting the soldiers the priestesses had easily put a holding spell on him. High priestesses were tough to fight alone, but eight working together were impossible.

Footsteps brought Rilmarn out of his daze. If he could just get them to take these chains off he was sure, even after all these hours bent and inactive, he could still break away. The squeak of the hinges proved someone had come to pay him a visit.

Small feet clad in expensive stylish high-heeled boots came into his view. He tried to move his head up to look at his captor, but couldn't move his head more than half an inch in any direction.

"Poor male." The voice purred in his direction as a slender hand caressed the side of his face. He thought of snapping at the fingers, maybe he could get a good hold on two or three of them, then the hand was gone before Rilmarn got the chance.

"You'd love to be free wouldn't you? If I promised you your freedom would you still be so full of fight?" The voice belonged to Triel Baenre, the same one that had barged into his rooms and kidnaped him. What did she want with him?

Rilmarn made no answer at all. There was no need, he knew she would never grant him freedom. These were his last days and he knew it. The thing was, how many could he take with him when he died.

Triel pulled Rilmarn's long thick braid over his shoulder, running it through her hands. "How was a male slave allowed to grow such long beautiful hair hm? It almost reaches the ground doesn't it? Ow." Triel stopped and held her hand before her, she had several small slices in her ebony skin. She held up the end of the hair gripped in her hand, and noticed there were small sharpened razor blades worked into the tuft of the braid.

"Oh very smart, yes how very smart you are. Is there anything about you that is not a weapon?" Tossing the hair back at it's owner Triel turned to leave the room.

"I don't have a patron, actually I've never had one. I never saw the need. Perhaps I might make an exception in your case. During your holiday in our house I suggest you think about the benefits of being patron of the first house of Menzoberranzan."

Rilmarn heard the heels of her boots clicking on the stones long after she left. She wanted him as patron, he would rather lay with Lolth herself, than lay with that conniving female. The door didn't close behind her, it would seem it was time for his real holiday to begin.

ooooo

Zin'vey walked into her private chambers, and was greeted by an unexpected site. A dusty, travel weary Silvie stood in her room.

As she entered Silvie turned to her, "Mistress I found out who and what was attacking the caravans."

"Good. What is that in your hands?"

"Oh, I almost forgot this. A messenger came a few minutes ago to deliver this to you." Silvie handed Zin'vey a box of hardened mushroom.

Zin'vey eyed the pretty female as she took the box from her. "What could be in this, do you have any idea?"

"No. As you can see the seal is still in place. I would never look into a package that was meant for you."

"Of course you wouldn't. The messenger did not say who it was from?" She still cast sly glances at Silvie while she turned the box over and over in her hands.

"No he didn't. I didn't think to ask."

"I would not think that you would. I am sure you already know who sent this package. Shall we open it together then?"

Zin'vey placed the box on her side table, and retrieved a small dagger she kept hidden in her bodice. As she pried at the seal she stared Silvie in the eye, "Surely you would want to see what was in this. Come closer daughter and look inside with me." Zin'vey's voice was dripping with venom. If this were a trap then she would not suffer it alone.

Zin'vey lifted the lid and her vision turned red. Her heart beat sped up and it drowned out every other sound in the room. It almost deafened her with it's ferocity. Her skin felt cold, her hands began to shake.

The distraught female placed a trembling hand inside the box and withdrew the contents. As she held her hand up, the contents coiled around her arm. It was hair, a long, wrist-thick braid of bloody white hair. Zin'vey grabbed the coil with her free hand and saw the small blades twisted into the end. It was Rilmarn's hair, he would never let it be cut while he was still alive to stop it. Her mind screamed inside her skull, and something snapped within her.

Looking up at the drow beside her, Zin'vey's eyes blazed with rage and insanity. "You did this. You did all of this. It's all your fault."

Before Silvie could react, Zin'vey grabbed her hair at the crown, with the hand that still had the coil of hair around it, with the other she brought the small dagger to Silvie's throat. The captured female struggled with the hand holding her, but couldn't get it to loosen, she began a prayer to her goddess as Zin'vey brought the dagger around her throat opening it up to allow her life's blood to spill down her tunic.

Zin'vey stood holding Silvie up by the hair, listening as she gurgled and spat, trying to finish her prayer. When the drow's eyes glazed over with death, Zin'vey dropped the corpse to the floor.

The blood covered dark elf left her chambers and headed toward the chapel. Something had to be done, somehow she could still fix this. Zin'vey entered the chapel at the same instance a huge explosion shook the structure. Dust and rubble fell from the damaged ceiling. Several more explosions sounded outside, but none as large as the first.

Nastree ran into the chapel breathing hard from her exertions, "Mistress we are under attack."

"Really I hadn't noticed." Zin'vey remarked snidely pushing the smaller female to the side andmoving toward the exit.

Just as Zin'vey pushed Nastree, the largest explosion yet hit directly on the dome of the chapel. The ceiling could not stand any more damage and gave way. Debris fell in large lumps to the floor.

As the dust cleared, Nastree pushed some debris off her and stood coughing, looking through the dust and falling stone for Zin'vey. As her vision cleared, Nastree found her mistress half buried under a large piece of the ceiling. She tried to move it but it wouldn't budge.

Explosions continued to bombard the falling structure. Nastree stopped trying to move the debris and went to try and rouse Zin'vey instead.

"Mistress, you have to help me if we are to both get out of here before the entire house falls."

Zin'vey moaned as she drifted toward consciousness. She felt hands on her, a voice kept calling her name. It took all of her will power to open her eyes and look around. Nastree stood over her, a look of concern etched across her delicate features. Zin'vey could still hear the attacks against her and her house, the structure shook with each one. She could see more cracks making their way along the walls and what was left of the ceiling. The entire structure would come down soon.

"Nastree listen to me, you have to leave, you have to get out of here before the house falls." Zin'vey croaked the words out threw a throat coated in dust.

"I'm sure if we work together, we can get you out mistress."

"No, even if I could remove this chunk of rock I wouldn't be able to get out of the house. Just go. Run from here and find some place safe."

Nastree started to leave what was left of the chapel when Zin'vey called her back, "Tell me one thing first, do you know who it is that is attacking us?"

"Yes, that's what I came to tell you. It's the Dyrrs."

"Of course it is. Now get away from here." Zin'vey laid her head back against the broken floor as Nastree made her escape.

This was it, she had survived the fall of her beloved city with most of her family intact, only to be so used and crushed here in the place of her last hope. She closed her eyes and listened to the symphony of explosions and crashing stone. After everything she had done to her family in the last year she deserved nothing better than what she had gotten.

The explosions stopped, the dust settled and still Zin'vey lay under the ceiling of the chapel and thought of all the mistakes she had made. It had grown to quiet a list when she thought she heard something. It sounded like fabric rubbing against fabric.

Zin'vey tried to peer about her, but she could see nothing but shadow. Then the very shadows themselves spoke to her.

"Hello little priestess, how is that you find yourself pinned to the floor?"

"Who is there? Is this some Dyrr trick?"

"Dyrr? Oh no, not a Dyrr. I find my own tricks fine enough without help thank you. It would seem you are in quiet a predicament there little priestess."

"Stop calling me that. If you are not a Dyrr, then who are you?" Zin'vey continued to look around her for the source of the voice. The shadows gathered around her growing thicker and darker.

"Don't you like being called what you are?"

"What I am is a corpse now or soon will be, along with everyone else in my family."

"Oh yes, your poor family. How abused they have all become." The voice crooned softly, seeming to be whispered right by her ear.

Zin'vey could still see no origin for the voice even though it seemed so close. "What is it you want? I might as well amuse myself with my own insanity before I perish."

A low chuckle filled the room. "I like you. I've always liked you. You were so very conniving. So very caring of your males. So very uncaring about that spider wench."

"What do you want?" Zin'vey could feel her strength starting to fail. She was beginning to feel cold and numb.

"What do I want. Why little priestess I want what you want."

"What is that?"

"Revenge." Whispered the smooth voice.

"Against who?" Zin'vey's voice was barely a whisper now. She could no longer feel her anything below her waist.

"Why whoever did this to you of course." The voice took on conspiratory whisper. "Don't you know who did this to you? I do. I know each and every one of them."

"Who? Who did this? Who killed my males and crushed my house?" Zin'vey found the strength to hold her head up and look around again. What she saw chilled her even more. Out of the shadows over her right shoulder a face started to form.

The face was male, very handsome and regal, the wild hair framing the face and the eyes were the exact same shade of green as Rilmarn's eyes had been. With that thought, Zin'vey managed to roll a little bit, to get a better look at the disembodied face.

"Who are you?"

"Why I am the one your brother prayed to every night. I am the one that watched your patron slay drow in my name. You have heard like father like son haven't you?"

Zin'vey stared dazedly at the face before she could find words to answer. "Narfein really was a heretic, and it was Ril that taught him."

The eyes and hair turned blue right before her. "Of course. I relish half elves, especially those as wonderful as your patron. He was quiet the specimen wasn't he?"

The face grinned back at her. What kind of delusions was she suffering? "Tell me exactly who you are."

"Oh why should I do that and ruin all this lovely little banter we're having as your life blood coats the floor? You already know who I am." Hair and eyes the orange of a roaring fire framed that handsome face.

"What do you want then?" For in truth Zin'vey did know who this was. But why was he coming to her. She was a priestess of Lolth his sworn enemy and a female.

"I thought we had discussed that already. I told you, that I very much like you, wanted nothing more than revenge. Am I speaking a language you don't understand. I was under the impression I was being very plain about what I wanted."

"You would help me get revenge for my brothers and my patron?"

Blue eyes glittered at her, "Of course I would my little priestess. You see, I seek revenge for them too. They were mine, they belonged to me before they ever belonged to you. I want those spider lovers to pay for what they have done, to me, to you, to your males, and to countless others of my followers."

"What do you want in return?" Zin'vey barely heard her own voice, the only thing that existed to her right then was this gorgeous face promising revenge.

"You, your loyalty, your faith, and your promise that you will help me get my revenge as I help you get yours. You see little priestess, I have been wronged too. I have had so many things taken from me, and I want them back." Red hair fell across the brow of the face as he spoke.

"I swear to you, Vhaeraun, God of the Night, I am and always will be yours, from this day and ever after, revenge shall be had for the both of us." The last thing Zin'vey remembered was that pretty male face surrounded by golden hair and those twinkling golden eyes looking down on her.


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

Zin stood over looking the city spread out before her. It writhed like maggots on a dead rothe'. She had come here to find a place for herself and her family, and all she had found was death and destruction, that was until her very last day in this moldering city.

Zin'vey Na'Shar had died that day, under the rubble of the cathedral's ceiling, in the house she had purchased. She died alone and penniless. From the ashes of that death something greater had risen.

Zin remembered awaking in that broken empty room, feeling whole and content for perhaps the first time in her entire life. When she made it to the only remaining exit of that shack, she had found Rilmarn's braid, one of Fimeral's daggers, one of Narfein's rings, and a black half mask. The only things she would ever need in this life again.

Turning away from the cess pool at her feet, she placed the mask over her eyes and left the cavern.

OOOOO

A/N I hope everyone that reads this story, enjoys it as much as I do now. I have to admit it was a trial to write, the plot was everywhere and I had to keep stopping and taking a day or two to straighten it out again, then continue the story. If you read this story leave a reveiw if you did or didn't like the story. I love to know what you think. Thank you for reading.


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